Arnie tried to hide a snort as the two courtiers turned their attention back to Jax. “I was just telling Courtier Jaquobie how hospitable you have been to us with all that you have going on, Your Grace.”
Jax gave Jaquobie a triumphant “I told you so” sneer, before smiling back at Rence. “I suppose for the first time, I am truly understanding how big a palace this is, and it’s nice when its filled with visitors, Courtier Rence. I hope we have the pleasure of your company for at least a night?”
Rence looked very pleased with the offer. “Your Grace, we would be delighted to rest the night in the magnificent castle of Saphire. I am sure our knights would appreciate a warm bed. The forest floors are no longer as inviting as they once were to this old man,” he gesticulated at himself. “Are you sure it is not an imposition?”
Thinking back to last night’s ball and the longing to just be alone with her grief, Jax put on her most charming mask. “Of course not. Pettraudians are forever welcome in our halls. Please, stay as long as you like.”
“A generous invite, Your Excellence. Thank you.” Rence once again bowed.
“Aranelda, would you please escort the delegation to the west wing and show them their rooms? I’d like to suggest that everyone rest for the afternoon and recover from your long journey from Mensina. In the meantime, I will have a glorious feast arranged so that we can converse over a full table.” Jax announced, sensing Rence’s dismay that whatever he had to say to her must wait a little while longer. Not giving him the chance to protest, Jax took her leave of the throne room, handing the reins over to Arnie to deal with the men. She decided that she wanted Uma to draw that bath now.
Chapter Three
A feverish knock on her apartment doors startled her from a daydream, the water sloshing around her. It was barely lukewarm now, her skin pruned from sitting in the bath for much longer than she intended. Rising from the large basin and grabbing a towel, Jax’s brow wrinkled with annoyance for a moment before remembering she’d dismissed Uma for the afternoon to ensure her time alone. The knocking continued, forcing Jax to dress hastily in a dressing gown before racing for the door. Whoever had the audacity to bother like this better have an important reason.
Her mood plummeted as she opened the door, her wet hair sticking to her face. “Master Vyanti? What on the virtues are you doing here?
At her choice of language, the elderly man’s face fell before her. Master Vyanti was her father’s court physician, but to many, he was more than that. In his prime, he had been a shaman, a priest, of the Ancient Faith, an archaic religion believing in gods and demons that was eventually subdued by the Virtues of the Realms. Instead of gods, enlightened people prayed to the virtues of kindness, humility, bravery, and intelligence. Her father, not wanting unrest in his duchy, had appointed Master Vyanti as court physician, a peace offering, a symbol that the Ancient Faith and the Virtues could live in peace within Saphire. Jax, having grown up as a child of Virtues, still struggled at not offending the old man.
Disregarding her exclamation, Vyanti pushed into her room, uninvited. “I am sorry to barge in on you like this, child, but I have a grave matter to discuss with you.”
Seeing the obvious distress in his face, Jax ushered the man into the sitting room, clasping her dressing gown. “What is it? I hardly ever see you this rattled, Master.”
The old man sat back in one of the arm chairs, looking like he was steeling himself for what was going to come next. His robes were stained with dark blotches, his wiry grey hair a mess, and the smell clutching to his clothes almost made her gag. Looking up at her with brown eyes of a commoner who had ascended to greatness, he opened his trembling mouth. “I have just come from examining your parents.”
Jax’s stomach dropped. “What? Why? Why would you do that?” She realized the stains on his robes were from blood. Her parents’ blood. Shaking in anger, she yelled. “Why couldn’t you just leave them in peace?” She cursed the Ancient Faith, for it had a vulgar ritual that involved removing the organs of the dead to burn, allowing their spirits to join the gods. Where her father merely supported the Ancient Faith, his body was apparently subject to its ritual.
Shaking his head adamantly, Vyanti held up his hands. “No, no, no, Your Grace. It is not what you think. Only those true to the Ancient Faith are cremated in such a way. I was merely examining their bodies for scientific purposes.”
Jax put her head in her hands, releasing her relief that her parents had not been touched by the Ancient Faith’s customs. They were to be interred within the ducal cemetery, entirely whole in mind and in body, like all her ancestors before her. “Go on.”
Master Vyanti clasped his hands sitting up. “I was helping prepare their bodies for internment, and I couldn’t help but notice that they did not reflect any sign of blunt force trauma. In fact, I could not find a single indicator that they died from their carriage crashing. No broken bones, no bruises, nothing.”
Trying to shield the images from her mind of her parents’ bodies strewn across the debris of their carriage, she looked at Master Vyanti with confusion. “What are you saying?”
He leaned in close, the smell of death wafting from him. “Your parents weren’t killed by a carriage accident.”
Her blood ran cold. “You mean to say, that their death was staged?”
Vyanti nodded vigorously, relieved that Jax was following his train of thought. “I came here to request permission to perform an autopsy, so that I can determine what actually killed them.”
Fighting through the shock of what she had just learned, she appraised the physician. “Have you told anyone else about this, Vyanti?”
“Of course not, Your Grace. I was preparing the bodies alone, and I came directly to you with my findings.” He looked offended at her question.
“Excellent. Thank you for coming to me with this. This is extremely troubling news for the duchy.” Jax bit her lip, working through her next move. “You have my permission to perform the autopsy, on one condition. I will be beside you. Please wait here while I change into something more appropriate.”
Silencing his protests with a formidable glance, Jax rushed into her bedroom and quickly pulled on a simple dress that she usually wore when she worked in the gardens with her mother during leisurely summer days. Pushing that fond memory aside, she marched back to an awaiting Vyanti. “We must keep this between us, Your Grace. Not a word to even Captain Solomon or Lady Arnie.”
Rolling her eyes at the obviousness of the request, Jax ushered for Master Vyanti to lead the way to the infirmary. Although, instead of leading her to the main floor hospital wing, they descended deeper into the recesses of the castle, near the catacombs. She realized they were heading towards the burial preparations room, a chill floating down her spine. She had never been here, mostly because she had been too young when her grandfather passed away, and up until seven days ago, a member of the ducal family had not needed burying. Even though it had been offered by Master Vyanti earlier in the week, she did not have the heart to visit the bodies of her parents alone.
They entered the preparation room in deafening silence, each too absorbed in their thoughts to converse with one another. At this moment, neither of them had anything to say. Simply giving her a look, to which she returned a nod, Master Vyanti approached a covered tabletop.
Jax’s stomach seized as she took in the haunting shape of a lifeless body beneath the filmy cover. The size and shape told her that Master Vyanti was about to unveil her father. She closed her eyes, not ready to see the handsome, charismatic man succumb to death. She listened in horror as she heard the swish of the sheet, the prodding and poking of stiff skin and muscle. It nearly made her vomit, Vyanti’s quickening breathing the only life-like noise in the room.
A small pop rung through her hot ears, followed by a gasp. “Your Grace. If you will please look at this, we have our answer.”
Jax didn’t know where she summoned the courage from, but she inched open her purple eyes, nar
rowing immediately towards the direction of Vyanti’s pointed finger. It took her brain a moment to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. Her father’s lightly lined face, the paleness of death fighting against his tanned cheeks and winning, his eyes closed, as if sleeping. His face was perfect. She’d had nightmares of his mangled body, bruised and bloodied from the crash, waiting underneath the weight of the cart to die. But his face was unmarred now. No bruises, not even a shaving nick. He was perfect. Except his mouth. The pop had been Vyanti opening the duke’s mouth, his jawbone moaning in protest. She looked at his pearly white teeth, his smooth lips. They were perfect. It was his tongue that made her stomach roll. His tongue was gangrene, rotting and molding from within his untarnished head.
“May the gods protect us,” Master Vyanti mumbled, frantically waving his arms around in some type of devotion. He turned to meet her perplexed gaze. “Your Grace, the Duke was poisoned.”
Chapter Four
His words echoed throughout the quiet chamber. Poisoned? That could only mean…
“Someone intentionally did this to my father. He was murdered,” Jax seethed, her anger and rage surpassing her sorrow. Someone had deliberately robbed her of this great man. Looking in Master Vyanti’s wide eyes, she snapped. “Examine my mother, as well,” she turned her attention to the second covered figure in the cavernous space. A powerful resolve flooded through her. “I want it confirmed.”
Master Vyanti quickly went to work while Jax turned her attention skyward. The thought that her father had an enemy dangerous enough to kill him truly terrified her. For so long, she’d lived in blissful oblivion that her father was the most beloved ducal ruler throughout all the duchies. He’d negotiated for peace, human rights, and prosperity for not only his own people, but for all in the realm. Why would someone want to end his life?
“Your Grace, the duchess suffered the same fate, I’m afraid.” Master Vyanti’s report was delivered with a grim expression.
It was almost as if she’d left her body and was looking down on the scene, watching herself, not as a daughter, but as a grand sovereign, pace and ponder around the room. She filed through her memories, all the knowledge she had accrued over the years, sifting out emotion and sentiment, focusing on logic and reason. “What time did my parents depart for their journey that morning, Vyanti?” She couldn’t remember the details, having been in a state of shock when the ducal guard had relayed to her news of the accident.
Master Vyanti hung his head. “I am not sure, Your Grace. I, too, was away from the castle, working with the brotherhood of physicians on a new antibody for the black fever.”
Jax’s lips were tight as she formed a list of suspects in her head. She remembered that Vyanti left the palace the day before she ventured to Hestes. If she could get confirmation from the brotherhood that he was indeed at their symposium, she could officially eliminate him from her list of suspects. “Out of all the inhabitants of this grand house, you and I were the only ones nowhere near the castle the day they departed. Master Vyanti, I know you and I have had our differences over the past few years, but I hope I can count on your discretion whilst I get to the bottom of this.”
He looked rather shocked and offended at her words. “Your Grace, of course, but wouldn’t it be wise to hand this investigation over to the ducal guards? Captain Solomon would surely find the culprit.”
“The ducal guard failed to protect my mother and father, sir. In order for my parents to be poisoned, someone must have tampered with their food, their drink, their clothes, even. That would mean there is a traitor in our midst. If we alert the ducal guard of this crime, we could scare our perpetrator away.” Jax barked coldly.
“Or prompt him to take action. Your Grace, you are in danger. Either someone very nefarious is out to end your family line, or perhaps they are planning on using you now that you are sovereign.” The physician pointed out.
Jax contemplated his words. She couldn’t deny the truth in both possibilities. “I’m not about to let anyone use me, Vyanti. I am quite strong-willed, as I am sure you know.” She commented dryly, a wry smile coming to the lips of the priest. She did not address the first scenario he’d mentioned. The death of her parents had brought her back home for a substantial time, the first in many years. Since she’d gone to the Academy, she hadn’t spent more than three or four days in the palace. It was possible she had been lured into a trap. “Regardless, I don’t think it wise to involve anyone in our suspicions, just yet. At this moment, the culprit thinks they have gotten away with murder. I’d like you to see if you can determine how they were poisoned and what was used. If we know how, we may be able to track down the who and the why.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Master Vyanti bowed his head in acquiescence.
“Once you’re done, continue with the burial preparations, as normal. We will plan to entomb them at sundown tomorrow.” Jax commanded. “I have been gone for too long. If my maids return, that will no doubt raise suspicions if I am not in my chambers. I must return and see to my guests. I will do a little digging tonight at dinner to see if I can uncover a plot.” With a sweep of her dress, Jax departed the catacombs and rushed quietly back to her rooms. The bathwater was still drawn, and although it had chilled significantly, Jax dumped a vial of lavender oil into the water and submerged herself in the tub once more. She shivered, but she doubted it was solely from the water’s touch. Allowing her emotions out of their cage, the enormity of the situation overwhelmed her. Someone killed the duke and duchess, and then went through a lot of trouble to elaborately stage their deaths. Had they been poisoned that morning? Was it their picnic lunch? Their water supply for the road? And their guards? All had been crushed in the crash. Had they, too, been poisoned, or killed by the ambush that had organized the plot?
Questions swirled around her mind as she took a scrub brush and set to work cleansing her skin and hair of the stench of death. She rubbed herself raw, drawing blood on patches of her arms and legs, unable to get that horrid smell out of her mind. Whoever did this to her family would pay dearly.
“Your Grace? Shall I help you prepare for dinner?” Uma’s meek inquiry filtered into the washroom.
“Yes, Uma, I’m in here still,” Jax chirped, trying to compose herself. Even darling Uma could somehow be involved with this treachery.
“Your Grace! You must be a shriveled old lady by now,” Uma exclaimed as she flitted in through the doors.
“Yes, silly me, I just got lost in my thoughts,” Jax said absently, rising from the basin as Uma wrapped her in a towel.
The efficient maid went to work on the duchess’s hair, drying it with a coal fan from the fireplace and twisting it up into an elegant bun. “This will hide the fact that it’s still damp, Your Grace.” Uma tutted, rushing back to Jax’s voluminous dressing room to find a dress for the evening. She settled on a dark blue gown with silver trim, cutting an impressive figure and accenting Jax’s eyes to the utmost.
After dabbing on some powder and rouge, Uma escorted Jax to the ceremonial dining hall, where she found Arnie waiting for her. Just seeing her friend made her want to dissolve into tears and tell her all about her torturous afternoon, but now was not the time. After they’d put their guests to bed, Jax would confide in Arnie, the one other person besides Vyanti she could trust. Arnie had been with her on their Hestes trip, after all.
Arnie must have noticed her sour mood, for she drew the duchess close. “You look stunning, poppy. Lord Pettraud is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
Jax snorted at the thought. “What on the virtues do you mean?”
Arnie leaned in, lowering her voice so the attending guards did not overhear. “I have a sneaking suspicion that this delegation has come to offer more than just its congratulations on your new title, that’s all.”
Jax’s eyes popped open. “You can’t be serious.”
Arnie shrugged, suppressing giggles. “Let’s just see what Courtier Rence has been dying to say all afternoon.”
>
A new worry bloomed in the duchess’s mind as she made her grand entrance into the regal dining room. She was in no mood to consider proposals of any sort, yet alone ones of marriage.
Sitting down at the head of the twenty-foot-long oak table, Jax motioned for her guests to do the same. Many of the knights were in ceremonial tunics, most likely leftover from their time at the tourney. Only Courtier Rence seemed to have been prepared to dine at a ducal table with his lavish robes. Seated two people to her left was Lord Pettraud, looking unjustly handsome in his simple knight’s costume. “Lord Pettraud,” she commented, assuming formal language for the dinner, “did you and your party rest well?”
She caught him mid-sip, causing him to sputter his wine. “Yes, Your Grace. Our accommodations are simply wonderful.” He chuckled bashfully as he mopped up his wine-stained face.
“I must say, Your Grace, the palace of Saphire really has no rival.” Rence spoke up, hoping to draw her attention away from his rogue charge.
Jax smiled at the courtier. What had this poor man done to deserve such an unwieldy charge? Perry hadn’t even waited for her to raise her glass. Doing so now, she signaled the rest of her guests to enjoy the Hestian wine she’d provided for the evening. Her glass was filled with apple juice, still not having recovered fully from last night’s mishap. “Please, drink and enjoy our feast this evening. Saphire is always honored to entertain our dear friends to the north.” She sipped her beverage austerely, watching everyone around the table do the same.
Once the food was served, conversations broke off amongst the group, leaving Jax to speak with those immediately around her: Arnie and Perry to her left, Rence and Jaquobie to her right. She had barely cut into her pheasant when Rence cleared his voice ominously.
“Your Grace, might now be the time to bring up business of state?” While his tone was courteous, she doubted he would accept anything but agreement.
The Ducal Detective (Ducal Detective Mysteries Book 1) Page 3
